


World Building is for Lamers and Nerds

by TrashMachine



Series: SIAU [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: SIAU tag, a lot of the time my brain just says my stuff is too bad to post, drug mention, i am a hACK, i made up everything, i made up everything about the drugs in this, no one will ever find me with these tags but thats kinda the point, so if you like it, this is a garbage AU in the works, uh theres drugs now, why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashMachine/pseuds/TrashMachine
Summary: A series of fics revolving around a bigger AU I have yet to post, but is in the works.





	1. King Poseidon

**Author's Note:**

> Map of SIAU: http://68.media.tumblr.com/47558d12213320ffa276d3af0a54bb15/tumblr_o78q10lg4f1skcbpmo4_1280.png
> 
> Current location: Off the North coast of Junk, near the Solum Ignei Mountains and River Jokol

_1587, The Seventh Day of the First Month of Autumn_

The winds were stronger than anticipated. Scrapheap pulled at the ships wheel, shouting orders to his crew mates in an attempt to control the boat. Waves smashed into the starboard hull. Each one more threatening than the last. He looked to where Mullock clung to the shroud ropes, relieved to find she was still hanging on.

Detritus screamed from the deck as one wave knocked him off his feet. Scrapheap waited for him to get to his feet before continuing.

“Grab hold of the foremast!” He yelled over the roar of the storm. “Don’t let her get loose!”

He watched Mullock get to the main mast top, and grinned. She was a tough gal, he trusted her to keep things under control the best she could.

The sails were inevitably ruined. Had he known of the storm, Scrapheap would have gone to port sooner. But it’d come from nowhere. Completely unexpected. They had cargo on board from Earth,so it was important they made it, however…

The odds were strongly against them. 

Storms like this weren’t exactly uncommon, but they were at this time of year. They tended to come during the months of Summer. Though it was only the first month of Autumn, so he supposed he should had seen in coming. It was rougher than he had ever experienced, and his ship was not ready to take such a beating. Even now, despite his efforts, he was taking them further North than they really should be. 

They were starting to encroach on Quintesson territory. No one had dared that in years.

Mullock fell from the top when a wave smashed over the bow, and broke the chains. It had knocked her off by force alone, and was no doubt going to keep her under. He swore, and tried to find her in the waves. But to no avail.

“Can’t we find her?!” Bricabrac screamed, but there was nothing they could do. The ship was destined to be lost, and them with it. Mullock was merely the first casualty.

Scrapheap was not willing to give up hope or stop fighting, however. He pulled best he could, his crew mates fought the winds and rains. He kept searching for her in the storm, trying to hear for cries for help. Something to give away her position, while keeping the ship afloat. But there was no hope of success.

Water rippled, and suddenly their boat was shoved off something rising from the tides.

He stared in horror. It was enormous. So much so that the water only came to knee hight. The occasional illumination from lightning smashing into its form revealed it to be strangely brightly coloured. Aquamarine with light and dark pinks, and a dark face with glowing yellow eyes.

It’s hands were held out in front of it, apparently holding something. One came down, clamping tightly around the ship, and lifted it from the turbulent water.

The other hand tilted, depositing Mullock onto the desk.

She coughed and spluttered, and posts were abandoned to rush to her aid. They clung together, under the dim glow of it’s eyes as it stared down on them. They shivered as wind threatened to push them on the slippery wood, and the shape above them hissed with steam. And then it walked. 

The hand that had retrieved Mullock defended them from the weather, and the second held them. From their height they could locate Junk through the gaps of the mechanic fingers. It felt oddly secure, Scrapheap found.

“Scrapheap,” Flotsam tugged on Scrapheaps’s coat, his own covering him to protect his shivering form from the rain. “Are we gonna live?”

“I hope so.”

He didn’t really have a better answer. Saving Mullock was a good sign, but no guarantee. ‘Quintesson’s were unpredictable little bastards,’ his father had said. ‘Primus, now she was a good lass,’ he had nodded while his son listened in front of the fire. ‘Lovely lady, really loved us, you know? Ahh, but her brother. Death. What a cock.’ And then he’d added another log to the fire and that had been the end of it.

He could only presume this was Quintesson. No one else would build something so huge.

It took a fair few minutes, water sloshing around the legs of the beast as it carried them to what they hoped was safety. They reached a beach that Scrapheap recognised. And then it dropped them there.

The impact shook them a bit, but no one was hurt. And they recovered in time to watch the big machine sink back into the ocean. They looked amongst one another, before Bricabrac spoke up.

“So. How do we explain this?”

—

The 20th day of the First month of Autumn was one that Pentius-Gar would not forget. It was the day his secretary had handed him a letter, one that no one else would receive in their time of living.

_“Dear Pentius-Gar of Junk,”_ it read. _“Due to recent circumstances, Lord Death of Quintessa would care to discuss terms of boarders with you. The date of the proposed meeting is the eighth (8th) day of the Second (2nd) month of Autumn. The area is of the common trade town of D-Void, in the main town centre. If this is agreeable, please guarantee the emptiness of the aforementioned town, and reply to the address on the back of this paper. Our people will take care of it.”_

_“Yours truly and sincerely, Dubium, Tertiary Leader of Quintessa."_


	2. Orion Pax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orion Pax has a funeral to go to.

_ 1967 4/2 Spring: Dion’s funeral _

 

Orion stared blankly into the mirror. Somehow, something seemed off about himself. He couldn’t tell precisely what it was, but he could make a few guesses. The bags under his eyes, the swollen redness of them. Maybe it was the way his usually so well-fitted suit hung from him where he had lost weight. Maybe it was the way his hair was styled- messier than usual and with a good few stray hairs dropping into his face.

He looked at the pale shade of his skin and swallowed hard. Too familiar. Too unusual. Too much like- like…

“Orion,” Magnus’ knuckles rapped gently against his door moments before he opened it. “It’s time to go.”

He didn’t want to go. It was too soon, it was impossible, it was so many things and none of them made sense. He wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it.

He nodded, following Magnus down the stairs and into his truck.

The ride was smooth, though it felt like it shouldn’t have been. It should have felt rough, messy, and rushed. But it didn’t. It should have felt desperate and unorganised. But it didn’t. It should have been cramped in the truck front, from three people fitting in on their way to work with their bags, half asleep, and running late to being early.

But it _didn’t._ And Orion knew it never would again.

Nothing felt real. Time passed so slowly, like the world had stopped. Orion felt like nothing could happen in this one moment, where seemingly everything happened. Nothing felt right. He wanted to go back home, to hide in his duvet and sleep. Sleep until the nightmare was over.

But it would never be over. Orion had live with that.

But how, he wondered, as the truck came to a halt. How could he live where his friend had not?

Magnus parked, and left the truck, coming round to help Orion out of the passenger seat. His body had experienced a lot of shakes recently, some leading to him collapsing. Neither one of them wanted it to happen in public. 

Orion took careful steps until they were both in the crowd. It didn’t surprise him that many people were around- from Iacon, from Tarn. They hadn’t been there for the speeches, for the open casket, but he supposed it didn't matter. They weren’t Dion’s friends. They didn’t know him like he had.

Magnus held his hand as his eyes blurred. The pallbearers began their decent, walking across the stone pathway to Dion’s grave. The glass top exposed his body, and while he could admit the mortician had done a wonderful job… it wasn’t his best friend. 

His best friend. Dion. He smiled like the sun, his skin a beautiful gold surrounded by fluffy, coiled, orange hair. He was passionate, and his eyes were bluer than the April sky. Freckles dotted his face like a spray of sunspots, of stars, creating a beautiful constellation across his face, down his neck and over his shoulders. It scattered over his spine. Orion had tried to count them all once, during a sleepy study session. He’d never managed it, and never will.

He knew Dion had one hundred and seventeen freckles on his face.

He’d always heard people say the dead could look like they were sleeping. And dressed in traditional Prima regalia, flowers woven into his coils, he could almost believe it. But Dion didn’t look like he was sleeping. Orion had seen him sleeping.

He looked dead.

Orion swallowed a sob. He felt awful. He didn’t understand. Why, why Dion? Dion hurt no one, Dion had never hurt anyone and never would. He wanted to save lives, he wanted to help. He bent rules and acted as a mediator. Who would do this to him? And why?

The crowd moved before him, like the titans themselves in the old stories, revealing the truth and exposing those who meant harm. He saw dark skin. He saw purple, he saw two men he knew in suits. He saw them emotionless, standing still against the passage of time, of their friend.

He saw red. Though whether or not it was Megatron’s eye colour or something else, he couldn’t tell.

It made sense. After the argument, after his _betrayal_. Why wouldn’t he organise this? He’d done the same to Sentinel, someone stood in his way, and he killed them.Dion was no different, he’d done it once he’d do it again and it had not been an ‘accident’ or a ‘suicide’ Dion had been murdered and-

“It was you!!” He leaped at Megatron, fingers clinging to his neck as if he could pull the air from his throat and transfer it to Dion. Something burned in his veins and maybe it was the rage, maybe it was the sadness, the pain, _the guilt_ \- “This was your fault!!”

“O-Orion!”

“Shut up!!” He fought at the hands trying to pry him off, the telltale feeling of Soundwave attempting to push him away, to defend his ‘master’ or whatever he called him these days. “You know it was your fault! You did this to him- you and your stupid gang! Your- your fucking ‘Decepticons’!!”

Megatron shoved Orion’s hands away from his neck with the force one would expect from an ex-gladiator. But the shorter of the two refused to stop. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do, he couldn’t have stopped the murder. There was nothing he could have done, staying with Dion the full walk home wouldn’t have saved him, paying for a taxi- it would have happened somehow, it wasn’t his fault, it was Megatron’s. It had to be Megatron’s. because if it wasn’t that meant…

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Someone lifted him off of Megatron’s body, dragging him away. Away from the crowds, from Dion. His best friend, his brother. Orion’s vision blurred, and he pointed accusingly to the form of Megatron as he was helped to his feet.

“I’ll get you for this!!” He screeched. “I’ll get you! I’ll make you pay! Do you hear me!”

Soundwave seemed to cower in Megatron’s arms, but Orion ignored it. Their guilt was more apparent. It was written all over their faces. They knew what had happened. They knew Orion was right. That’s why they looked worried, that’s why they looked scared. 

“I’ll make you pay!! I’ll make both of you pay!” Something shattered inside of him, and he collapsed into the arms supporting him. He was overwhelmed by his own emotions, and they seemed to make themselves known by forcing from his eyes. He gave one final scream as he was hoisted into the passenger seat of the truck.

“You’ll pay for what you did to him! I’ll make sure of it! You’ll rot in jail if it’s _the last thing I do!!”_


	3. Jazz Pax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz doesn't know what the fuck that is but he's gonna catch it.

_ 2004, 6/1 Summer: Iacon's Dealer _

 

It started when the Decepticons began shipping their goods to Iacon.

Jazz couldn’t figure out how they did it. He had his guard stalk the entrances, patrol the walls, but there was no evidence to anyone illegally entering. Yet more and more people were being treated for Boosters, Syk, and Speed. There had even been one case of Dark Energon.

The last time they’d had one of those, it resulted in several cannibalistic murders.

They started searching people entering, police, politicians, workers, everyone. Even Jazz wasn’t excluded from it. But still nothing. He was starting to lose his mind- people were entering with nothing but coming out with so much. They investigated shops, houses, for any sort of evidence of distribution, to find nothing. Interrogations lead nowhere. It was always the same description, but they never found the seller, and no one actually knew how he got in.

Jazz was at the end of his rope.

“Sir?”

He turned to face the person who had spoken- Ranger. Earthian decent, nervous -new. But ultimately a thoughtful young recruit. Jazz grinned, leaning on the desk as he spun his pen in the other hand. “Ranger, my man, what’s up? Good news?”

They shuffled for a moment, then cleared their throat. “I’m- I’m not sure. It’s just a rumour, but… I don’t know it might be helpful.”

Jazz perked up. Even rumours were good for him at this point. He had no current leads- aside from this mysterious man in a pink hoodie and red glasses. He gestured for the recruit to go on, who smiled shyly.

“Well, I overheard these two dock workers talking- the ones that work on the cleaning out of Iacon river? Well, they said the other day, when they turned the ducts off to stop water flow there was damage on them.”

“Damage?” Jazz rolled his eyes. “From what? Rocks?”

The recruit flushed, and stumbled to continue. “N-no! No, sir, they said it looked like… like…”

Jazz tilted his his, putting his pen down. “Like what?”

“Like someone had grabbed onto them, and they had bent.”

Jazz’s eyebrow raised. Bent? “But you can’t swim in the river- no one can.”

Ranger nodded, looking irritable, yet worried. “Thats what I said! But then… well, see for yourself.”

He held out some photos, and Jazz blinked at them as if they might change at any second. “Those… those are definitely finger sized dents.”

“And not rocks.”

Jazz shook his head. “Not rocks.”

Ranger looked encouraged by this, and continued with his apparent rumour. Or rather, at this point, evidence. “Apparently they’re also finding evidence of someone marking down there. Red lines- you see in these pictures here? -they have dates next to them, and they didn’t do this cause they’d get into trouble… so it might…”

“It might be our dealer.” Jazz nodded. Pausing to think as he ran his eyes over the pictures. “… How about I stake out the river tonight? Tell the others to continue their rounds.”

Ranger smiled, giving a salute. “I’m glad to have been of help, sir!”

—

Iacon was quiet at night, Jazz realised suddenly, as he leant across the railing of Iacon river. There was no reason for people to be around, he supposed. All forms of nightlife were concentrated in Kaon- upper or lower district. Which is why people who frequented got wrapped up with drugs.

He’d left Magnus with their kids. Bumblebee was responsible enough, but the twins were only seven and he didn’t want that kind of responsibility on a teenager. Bee was excelling- much more than he’d anticipated. He’d earned so many achievements from the past years, and had gotten closer to his cousin Rodimus. Though his friends seemed rather unstable- that was one thing Jazz was concerned over. He didn’t want Bumblebee to feel isolated after all.

Jazz looked down into the water below, watching it rush past. Rodimus was a good friend for Bee, but there was something bothering Jazz about the kid. Or rather, about how he reacted to his parents. He never wanted to go home, and at first Jazz had dismissed it as a child wanting to keep playing, but these days he was too old to be reacting as such.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw something move below the water.

There something was, pink and black and under the surface, slowly crawling its way along the bottom towards the Golden Spire. Jazz froze. He almost couldn’t believe it. He didn’t expect something like this!

He rushed to find a small rock or something, and toss it into the water. It landed with a loud slash, and sunk before being washed away by the powerful current. The figure under the water stopped, and turned. And Jazz almost laughed when he saw red. The glasses. They were fucking goggles.

When the figure started moving towards him, he panicked for a second. They must have been unbelievably strong to swim against the current, and while Jazz was an excellent fighter he wasn’t sure he wanted to try it.

It reached the wall, then surfaced quickly, and he found himself looking down into the face of a young man. Maybe just a bit older than Bumblebee. He held tight to the wall, and grinned.

“Hey up there.”

He was calm, so Jazz stayed relaxed, calling down to them. “You know it’s dangerous down there, right?”

The other chuckled, and began scaling the wall. And Jazz blanked for a moment.

He wasn’t wearing any equipment. Nothing to breathe underwater. And at a closer look, those _were_ glasses. Nothing on his hands for strength, nothing on his face, and with how tight his clothes were from the water, Jazz could tell he wasn’t holding anything.

He pulled himself over the rails, and Jazz backed away. “You’re soaked.”

“I was in the water,” he smiled, as if there was nothing wrong with the statement. “Of course I’m wet.”

“Of… of course.” He didn’t know what to say. What to do. What could he do? What was this guy? How could he do any of those things? Was he the dealer or was he just some weird fucker in the river? What was he even doing in there?

“You ok?”

“How can you breathe underwater?” Jazz blurted out, and the other froze for a second before shrugging.

“I just can. Not much more to tell than that. I can do a lot of things other people can’t.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged, then walked over to the road. Jazz made to follow, but got shoo’d back. The man crouched down, staying still for a few seconds, and then jumped.

‘Jumped’ was technically what the action was. But in terms of genuine description, Jazz felt more inclined to call it a ’50 foot vertical leap’. The landing was rough, and left a small indent in the concrete. But nothing more serious than a pothole. He nearly spoke, but then they continued.

They stopped at a car. Earth imported by the looks of it, but Jazz wasn’t much of an expert. He did know, however, that Earth cars were not made of styrofoam. And yet they lifted it as if it was.

“That’s… impressive.” He couldn’t say much else. What else could he say? ‘You’re a freak of nature’? The kid couldn’t have been older than seventeen.

“Helps my dad.”

“Lot’s of heavy lifting? Weapons?”

They shook their head, putting the car. “Listen, Meister, I know who you are and I’m not giving any more information than I feel like. Whether or not you think I’m dangerous, or you think I’m a Decepticon, all you’ve got on me is that I swim in a river and I can lift a car.”

Jazz folded his arms. “And cause property damage with your jump landings.”

They grinned, sliding their glasses down their nose. Jazz jolted back at the revelation, as four eyes blinked at him unevenly.

“I can do all kinds of damage. I’m all kinds of messed up. My dad doesn’t tell me I am but I know. I’m a monster,” he laughed, and his skin began to almost ripple, as if beginning to bubble and tear itself into muscle alone. “But it’s convenient. I can swim against deathly currents. I’m not weighed down by equipment. And most importantly…”

He leaped over Jazz, who turned around as fast as he could to see him balanced on the rails.

A bag full of antifreeze in his hand.

“I can’t be caught.”

Jazz dashed forwards to catch him as he fell backwards, but only managed to brush his fingers against the pink fabric as he escaped his grasp, and shot down the river like a bullet.

He snarled, pressing his earphone to activate it. “Found our dealer. Lost our dealer.”

_“What?! But sir!”_ Came Breaklock’s voice. _“Shouldn’t we give chase?”_

“No point,” Jazz looked down the river, to the first waterfall into the other circle of Iacon. “He’s already gone.”

_“Did you get anything on him?”_

Jazz laughed, making his way back to the HQ. “Oh, you are not gonna believe what I got on him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you will NEVER find out who the mysterious water boy is


	4. The 1988 Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not come up later. Who knows? Not me.

_ 1988, 15/1 Autumn: Sigma _

 

It was not Optimus’ first time at a trial. He’d been in the jury many times, and during his courses he had attended a few as public crowd. A few times he’d been the accused, due to his habit of being an activist while in the Academy.

He never thought he’d be a witness. 

The crime had been committed against him, and he had been called to speak against this man he didn’t even know. It was the Criminal Justice Devision of Iacon that was dealing with the situation, and he’d been told the accused had a case of reported breaking and entering, trespassing, theft, and stalking. All against Optimus.

Both him and Magnus were to speak as witnesses, as well as a few of their neighbours. They were only witnesses to the theft and trespassing, but Magnus and Optimus were witnesses to all of the actions. Their security cameras helped too.

Optimus hadn’t even known the mans name until he was called upon as a witness. Sigma Polyscript, apparently. He thought it quite a peculiar name. Most Cybertronians had simpler bynames. In example, his own last name, Pax, meaning peace in the old language. This ‘Sigma’s name meant something closer to ‘multiple characters’. 

Old tongue bynames were strange too. Especially with such an obscure meaning.

When he was called to the witness stand, he spotted a surprised StarSabre in the crowd. He fought the urge to glare, or make some form of rude gesture. He was probably surprised to see Optimus on the witness stand, and not on the accused. 

They despised each other. But right now wasn’t about StarSabre. It was about the blue haired man in front of him, sighing dreamily.

“Orion Pax,” the judge spoke clearly, and tiredly. By the look on his face he thought this was a farce, or something ridiculous. “Optimus Prime of Tarn Autobot Head Quarters. You are here today as a witness to the accused crimes, and to give a Personal Statement as a victim, correct?”

“Yes.” Optimus nodded, daring a look to the accused afterwards.

He was drooling. Sigma’s nails pulled at his skin, at his eyelid. His grin was too wide, showed too much teeth. He panted, eyes wide and his handcuffed hand hung loosely from where the other permitted it to sit. Optimus recoiled at the sight, and a telling sigh came from the judge.

And the jury. 

And most of the public.

Oh no.

“I…” Optimus started, but found himself unable to say another word. Sigma’s eyes had widened further somehow, despite already being impossibly open. Optimus gulped, and Sigma’s pupils followed the bob of his adams apple.

His mouth was dry. The look the other man gave him was terrifying. Like he wanted to eat him alive. Optimus couldn’t speak. The teeth and eyes and twitching fingers, barely restrained wheezes of an unhealthy desire. He felt sick. He couldn’t move.

“If you are too uncomfortable,” the Judge spoke up, carefully. “We can remove the accused from the court room.”

“NO!!”

Optimus’ head whipped around to see Sigma, expression morphed into something akin to rage, talon like nails scratching into the wood of the stand. Drool now mixed with blood dripped from his teeth, and Optimus actually stepped back in fear.

“He can’t leave. Not now. Not now that he’s here. He’s here~!” Sigma cooed, eyes focusing on Optimus, and a shaky giggle forcing its way out through clenched teeth. “And now I can see him properly! This, this is our fated meeting! The moment we fall in love!”

The prosecutor stood, clearing his throat. “With all due respect, I do believe the accused is criminally insane, and should not be listened to during this time unless providing evidence to his… increasingly apparent guilt.”

“Carried.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Sigma whined. “He just doesn’t know it yet. He’ll love me, you’ll see. You’ll all see. He’ll understand my love, our love.”

“I absolutely do not.” Optimus croaked, ignoring the heartbroken look on Sigma’s face. “I believe I don’t have to give much of a statement to give evidence to how… effected I am from this mans actions.”

“I asked you!”

Optimus turned back, stomach heavy. “Excuse me?”

“I asked you!” Sigma repeated, standing proudly. “I asked if you minded, and you said you didn’t mind!”

“I certainly didn’t.”

“So,” the man continued as if Optimus hadn’t said anything. “I did everything. I took pictures of you every day, I made sure you slept safely, I looked after you! I made sure you were alright with the walkie talkie under your bed!”

Optimus thought he was going to be sick. Someone held his shoulder, steadying him, as Sigma continued.

“I have a scrapbook of all the times you looked near me, I’ve collected all your lost things, the things you left behind!”

“The accused should stop speaking,” the Judge snarled as Optimus was lead to a seat. “You’re only upsetting the witness further!”

“That’s because you don’t understand.”

Sigma’s voice took on a different tone. And when Optimus managed to look, he saw Sigma’s true face. The dead eyes. The emotionless face. His monotone voice, it revealed everything Optimus had to know about his motives.

“I understand well enough.”

“No. You don’t.” Sigma leaned forwards.”You don’t understand because you’re _normal._ Orion Pax is everything. I found the one person who makes me feel anything. Anything at all. I cannot lose him. I must protect him. No one else can have him. I _need_ him. I must not let anyone else have him. He must be mine. I have to make him mine. He is everything. He is worth any sacrifice. Nothing else matters. No one else matters.”

They began to hurriedly escort Optimus out of the court, and he dared one last look to Sigma. The man was shaking. As if he was about to have a seizure. Optimus was breathing too fast. His heart was pounding. 

“He. Will. Be. Mine.” Sigma grinned. Yet his eyes were dead and cold. “He doesn’t have a choice.”

The court doors slammed shut.


	5. Variants of Drugs [unrelated]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I figure it's best to have some kinda context- I've made a LOT of stuff for this AU so I might as well share.

**_Neural boosters:_** -Neurals, N, Boosts, clickers

-injected

-often taken to make emotions less prominent, known to be extremely effective. Overuse can make emotions difficult to control when off. Highly addictive. Very popular, high illegal.

—

**_Circuit boosters_** : -CB’s, Circs, Zappers, Zips, bullets

-powder, often mixed into shots, or snorted

\- a strong stimulant that often makes the brain process things a lot faster, gives a rush of excitement and energy, long term use can create extreme fatigue and dependance for basic functioning

—

**_Syk_** : -fluff, ills, buffers, silk

-often as paper tabs made to dissolve in the mouth

-light hallucinogenic properties, but mostly a depressant. Overuse can make a person slow, lethargic, tired and create a loss of appetite. Known to be used as a date rape drug. Overdosing can lead to the body physically shutting down.

—

**_Speeders:_** -Speed, Shots, Hitters

-tablets, taken orally

ups the chemical output of the body, often making people happier, and more energetic. Often more reactive, talking faster to keep up with their brain. Very twitchy, often stuttering. Overdosing can lead to the heart giving up, or too much chemical output, and poisoning the body.

**_—_ **

**_Dark Energon:_** -Snaps, crack, Dee, Kenergon, 

\- purple crystal, taken orally, or liquid, either injected or taken orally

-A rare crystal that only grows around Praxus, very expensive and even harder to get, mostly slowly down the body, makes thinking harder, but gives a feeling of confidence and power, even if it does the opposite. Overuse can lead to irritability. Overdose leads to death. Some don’t take to the first dose well and results in permanent mutations.

—

**_Antifreeze:_** -Icers, Snow, Icicles, Nitro

-white or blue powder, can be smoked, or mixed into drinks

-Though potential use to help someone sleep at night, it’s mostly used like chloroform. Small amounts will make a person sleepy, while larger amounts can knock them out. Overdoses are rare, but it’s possible than a person will not wake up. 

—

**_Battery Acid:_** -Batters, Pops, Lemon pops, Bitters

-Adark oily coloured fruit, very bitter, very sour, can be taken as the fruit itself or its juice

-Hallucinogenic properties, though these hallucinations vary each time on what they are and what they consist of. While overdosing is not an issue, bad trips are likely, leading to severe paranoia and anxiety.

—

**_Jumpstarts_** : -Volts, Shocks, Lightning, Flash

-powder, often taken by snorting or smoking

-Gives a short burst of energy, and then after that wears off gives the user hallucinations. These can vary in strength, ranging from light hallucinations or severe ones, where reality is impossible to tell from the hallucinations. Overdosing can lead to heart problems, or breathing problems, but overuse leads to paranoia, long lasting hallucinations, and dissociation as a method to cope. 

—

**_Pumps:_** -Airs, Gaspers, Rings, Antis

-Injected or smoked

-Known to be used to combat severe anxiety, though illegally, slows a persons thought process and reaction time. Injection sites often have oddly formed rings around them, but overuse can cause depression, and overdosing can lead to organs stopping.

—

**_Energon:_** -Known by brand or type

-drunk orally

-Known to make users dizzy, giggly, often happier and more relaxed. No side effects and overdose only leads to vomiting.

—

**_Cygars:_** -Known by brand 

-Smoked

-Often just flavoured smoke, leaving no negative residue behind, and often giving someone a relaxed and optimistic demeanour. Impossible to overdose, no side effects.

—

**_Oilers:_** -Known by brand

-Taken orally as either liquid or pills

-Gives a small amount of energy, often makes functioning easier on those who get little sleep. No side effects or possibility of overdosing.


End file.
